


bare

by swancharmings



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swancharmings/pseuds/swancharmings
Summary: Donna makes a change.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	bare

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-finale, pre-Seattle.

“Wanna go to bed?” he mumbles, groin stirring as Donna stretches in his lap, breasts pushed up towards the ceiling and, consequently, his face.

_ His wife’s _ breasts.

A rush of something else fills his chest; a mix of contentment and pride and overwhelming elation.

Yeah. That will  _ never _ get old.

He starts to get up, but she stops him with a hand to his chest. She’s staring at him inquisitively, as though looking for an answer to a question she hasn’t yet asked, and is visibly fidgeting.

He eyes her curiously.

“I did something a little...different,” she says, shifting her gaze down between her legs.

He smiles wide. He can’t help it. “I thought you weren’t buying any more lingerie.”

Donna snickers, shaking her head. “And I’m serious.” She pokes his chest. “No, that’s...not what I mean.”

Now he’s confused. “You want to...try something?”

A sigh. “No, Harvey.  _ It’s _ ...different.”

It takes him a minute.

A  _ long  _ minute.

Then —

_ Oh. _

Harvey’s mouth goes dry.

“So...instead of a...trim, you —“

“Yeah,” she finishes.

“For me?”

The second the words leave his mouth he wants to kick himself.

Donna snorts. “Absolutely not.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he defends, hands up as she smirks.

“Good.”

“Just...uh,” he clears his throat, “can I ask...why?”

“Well, I’d like to be able to go to the beach on our honeymoon without worrying about... _ lawn maintenance _ .” Her eyebrows rise comically.

Harvey’s not laughing. He’s still rather dumbstruck, eyes roving back and forth between her lips and her crotch and Donna waits patiently.

“Can I...see?” He swallows, tapping her hip.  _ Smooth _ , he thinks. They’re fucking  _ married _ and  _ that’s _ how he’s going to initiate sex.

Donna doesn’t make him elaborate. She doesn’t comment at all, actually, just guides him towards the bedroom and he wonders for the millionth time that week how he got so lucky.

He’s not sure why this is...affecting him so much. Certainly he’s seen his fair share of them.  _ More than _ his fair share. And he’s seen  _ Donna’s, _ all those years ago and every single damn day since he knocked on her door, and she’s always kept things... _ maintained _ . Donna has a great one, too — snug, folding nicely, dusty pink and gorgeous (not a word he ever thought he’d use to describe genitalia, but — Donna’s deserves it). Besides, there is nothing quite like those auburn curls that frame her center, delicate and sopping wet, tickling his nose while he laps at her clit.

But thoughts of tasting her bare, satiny skin with that final barrier removed — that’s sexy as hell.

It’s not long before she’s spread eagle underneath him and he’s sliding her panties off her hips, greeted with what he’s sure belongs in a Renaissance painting. He sucks in a breath, runs both thumbs along her outer lips, tracing the indents of her thighs and sweeping them gingerly across her mound.

“What do you think?” comes Donna’s sultry voice. He’s vaguely aware of muttering something akin to “fucking beautiful” before he spreads her open and kisses to his heart’s content.

He sucks her clit into his mouth, flicks his tongue in tight circles and she arches her hips on a moan. He pulls back to admire his handiwork; the rosy nub peeks out from underneath its hood, glistening with his spit and her moisture. He blows on it, gently, and the gooseflesh on her newly bared skin makes his cock twitch.

There’s a freckle, there, on the exposed surface and he’s fascinated with this discovery, that there are freckles on Donna Paulsen he hasn’t seen before (that maybe  _ no one  _ has seen before — this thought makes him impossibly harder). He spends precious time circling it with his tongue, framing it in a searing kiss and leaves the spot blotchy red.

_ Soft _ does not even begin to describe the skin he encounters; she’s hot and slick and smooth, no friction whatsoever as his tongue bathes her sex, disappearing between her folds before traversing her mound, lathering her with soothing strokes.

She bucks into his face, grinds against his chin and comes hard, chanting his name and gripping the sheets as he nips at her labia. The high has barely subsided as Harvey takes his rigid cock and slides it along her pink slit, his free hand bracing the juncture of her thigh so he can guide the swollen head over every silky inch of her.

The bed jostles as Donna hikes herself up onto her elbows, licking her lips and declaring, “let me watch.” Two wandering fingers spread herself open and Harvey nearly comes on the spot.

Recovering, he strokes himself solidly from base to tip, entranced by her flushed chest and darkening eyes. He positions the tip at her entrance, circles the opening in a tease that has her squirming before sheathing inside, incredibly, sensually slow, and he can’t decide where to look — his cock impaling her bare pussy or her fluttering eyelids, slack jaw and flaming cheeks.

He doesn’t realize he’s only halfway inside until her breathless “god, more” reaches his ears; her legs part even further and he takes the hint, grasps her thighs and pushes all the way until her hot lips hug the base of him and that’s when he loses it, lets go, pistons in and out of her in rapid succession. His fingers don’t cease — stroking where they’re joined, venturing up to roll his thumb across her most sensitive spot before crushing the heel of his palm there, drawing out the loudest fucking scream he’s ever heard and the feel of her soaked, supple flesh against his hand has him spilling into her in seconds.

“Fuck, Harvey,” she gasps, clawing at his back, stroking low on his spine.

His lips find her neck, kissing her there over and over again to slow his racing heart. “Okay?”

“Uh huh.” Her chest heaves.

“Good, because I’m nowhere near done.”

“You’re gonna have to give me a minute.”

A grin stretches his face.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

She chuckles lowly. “You were thinking it.”

“Fine. Can you blame me?” He starts to crawl back down her body, pausing to lick around her nipple, teasing it to tautness before returning to his own personal heaven.

“Less thinking, more  _ doing _ .” She wiggles her hips in his face.

He gives a sudden twist and rolls onto his back. Donna sits up fully, annoyed, shoving at his shoulder.

“What the hell, Harvey?”

He crooks two fingers at her, voice husky and rough. “Get up here.”

Donna’s cheeks redden.

“Up...here,” she repeats, blindsided.

“I want you to come on my face.” Undeterred by his own bluntness, he reaches for her, fingers trailing up her thighs.

Stroking her waist, he meets her eyes and gives a reassuring nod. He can practically see the wheels turning, weighing this new possibility, before she finally scoots up the mattress to place both knees on either side of his head.

The sweet, heady scent fills his nostrils as she brackets his face, and he swears he’s never needed her more in his life.

Harvey palms her backside, pushing her cheeks apart to grant him with an even clearer view. She’s wet, so wet, coated in a mix of them both. It’s the most erotic thing he’s ever seen and he grips his dick to relieve some of the pressure.

He traces her slit with the edge of his tongue, soft flicks turning into hard strokes against her swollen folds.

She’s hesitating, thighs shaking with the effort of holding herself up, and so he swipes along the inside of her labia, close to her entrance and that does it — she bears her full weight on him and he happily sucks her whole pussy into his mouth, her sharp moans spurring him on.

He knows she’s done this before. They’d talked about it: positions, techniques, things they hated, things that made them scream.

She’d mentioned she had a hard time relaxing this way, truly letting go, giving herself over to the pleasure. Too afraid of her own strength, of crushing him, taking too much.

Maybe he can help her with that.

Pulling back to nibble at the smooth skin, he fucks her with two fingers, pumping hard before replacing them with his tongue. She’s writhing and whimpering away and his hands rub her asscheeks, cupping and caressing.

“You need...more?” he asks, pinching her there and praying she knows what  _ more _ means.

Panting heavily, Donna circles her hips on his mouth, reaches behind her back to clasp her hands on top of his own. It’s clear to him the second she pats his fingers, lifts them to drum on her ass.

_ Bingo. _

He slaps. Hard.

Donna’s legs give out, pussy smearing over his lips, and he slaps three more times until she’s convulsing over him, ramming into his chin, her clit pressing hotly against his nose. He can barely breathe but he loves it, craves it, traps her to him while he continues to lick her from taint to clit.

“I’m crush—“ she starts, but he hums into her core and grips her ass to keep her in place.

“Don’t,” he grunts. “Stay.”

“Fuck,” she keens, rubs on his face a little more as he sucks her in greedily.

Eventually she quiets and he lets her go, planting a kiss on her sore mound as she swings her leg to the side, collapsing against him. Her cheek rests on his shoulder and he wraps himself around her, tracing a mindless pattern on the back of her thigh.

“Do you...?” A whisper against his neck.

“No.”

“Harvey —“

“No,” he repeats, squeezing her hip.

“Let me take care of you.” It’s quiet and gently seductive and almost makes him lose his resolve.

Harvey shakes his head. “I’m all taken care of.”

She huffs, breath tickling the hairs on the nape of his neck. “Why do you have to be such a gentleman?” But she’s smiling, he can feel that, too, and maybe he’s half-hard again but she’s melting into him and he’d rather just...be, right now.

Bodies meshed together, he tilts her chin up to kiss her, sweet and sloppy, fiddling with a strand of hair near her ear.

_ Every day of your life, you lucky bastard,  _ he thinks to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Liz (schmorygilmore) requested a hesitant Donna and face sitting - hope I did this justice! Sorry it’s not its own fic, I couldn’t help but add it here.


End file.
